'Paper parks': Myanmar habitats where official protection is not worth the paper its written on
Official safeguards mean little for many of the country's wildlife havens

Off a remote, glimmering beach backed by a lush tropical forest, Julia Tedesco skims the crystalline waters with mask and fins, looking for coral and fish life.
"There is almost nothing left down there," the environmental project manager says, wading towards a sign planted on the shore reading "Lampi National Park".
Some 50 metres behind it, secreted in the tangled growth, lies the trunk of an illegally felled tree. Nearby, a trap has been set to snare mouse deer. The beach and sea are strewn with plastic, bottles and other human waste.
The perilous state of Lampi, Myanmar's only marine park, is not unique. Though the country's 43 protected areas are among Asia's greatest bastions of biodiversity, encompassing snow-capped Himalayan peaks, dense jungles and mangrove swamps, they are to a large degree protected in name alone.
Park land has been logged, poached, dammed and converted to plantations as Myanmar revs up its economic engines and opens up to foreign investment after decades of isolation.
Of the protected areas, only half have even partial biodiversity surveys and management plans. At least 17 are described as "paper parks" - officially gazetted but basically uncared for - in a survey funded by the European Union.
So rangers rarely see a tiger in the 21,891-square-kilometre Hukaung Valley Tiger Reserve. It's the world's largest protected area for the big cats, but has been overrun by poachers supplying animal parts for traditional medicines in nearby China.